The White Wolf
by G-soma
Summary: "Bend your knee to the King. Win his wars. Then bring the might of the Seven Kingdoms to the North. I will hold the Wall until you return, Lord Snow." In which, Jon Snow and Ser Alliser Thorne comes to an understanding. AU.
1. Chapter 1

The White Wolf

Summary - "Bend your knee to the King. Win his wars. Then bring the might of the Seven Kingdoms to the North. I will hold the Wall until you return, Lord Snow." In which, Jon Snow and Ser Alliser Thorne comes to an understanding. AU.

Disclaimer - I do not own Game of Thrones/A Song of Ice and Fire

A/N - Will have a mixture of book and show elements. Most of the book elements with be the inclusion of book characters - and small changes here and there. But just...assume, I'm going off the show in the beginning. I'll try to explain as I write it.

* * *

 **Chapter I**

 **"Rise Again"**

 **Castle Black - War Room**

Jon kept himself silent as he assessed the men sitting around the large conference table. At the head of it was Ser Alliser Thorne, the acting Lord Commander until a new one was to be chosen. He was also the heavy favorite to win the upcoming election as well - due to his leadership and valor during the Defense of Castle Black. While Jon had many negative opinions of the man, he did not doubt Ser Alliser's allegiance to the Night's Watch. And that was something all the men here had in common.

To Jon's right was Samwell Tarly, Maester Aemon's steward. Sitting beside Alliser Thorne were four of the most highly regarded men that currently belonged to the Night's Watch. First was Maester Aemon, who had served the Watch for so long, many had forgotten that he had refused the Throne to take his vows. Another was First Builder Yarwyck. Beside him were two others.

The first was Ser Denys Mallister, an old knight. An old warrior who commanded the Shadow Tower for more then three decades. Next to Ser Denys was Cotter Pyke, the commander of Eastwatch-by-the-Sea. These two men held heavy presences - strong presences. Either one of them could hold command of Castle Black and the Night's Watch.

The election would be soon.

"We shall convene." Maester Aemon began. His voice quieter then usual. He could almost feel Sam's worry radiating off of him. According to Sam, the old dragon seemed to be waning further and further.

"Aye." Denys's fingers began strumming the table with a rhythm. "The matters of which that are discussed here cannot be leaked out. No matter what."

Cotter Pyke remained silent but leveled a heavy look upon Jon Snow, who took it in stride. The Ironborn, Cotter Pyke, had a reputation for being intimidating. Jon was not as easily scared as the rest of the Watch however.

He did hear Sam take in a large gulp though.

"No need for small talk." Ser Alliser was more than aware of the enmity between Cotter Pyke and Denys Mallister. No need to keep them together for longer then necessary. "Lord Snow. I've received word that the King has given you quite the offer as of late."

"Hm?" Jon inquired. _"He asked me to serve him. But why would he know that? Why would he care either way?"_

"The King has offered to legitimize you. Raise you from a Snow to a Stark and has asked you to take the North back with him." Denys clarified with a wave of his hand. Jon widened his eyes slightly. "Don't be so surprised. We've been leading the Watch for years, Jon. We have means of acquiring information."

"Aye. And this is the latest piece of gossip." Alliser smirked arrogantly - but the look left his face as quickly as it appeared, replaced by a somber demeanor. "We need to know how you truly feel about this offer, Lord Snow."

Jon mentally trembled. Anger rose in his chest but he controlled himself. Why had they brought this up? Was it to mock him? Was Alliser trying to use this against him somehow? For what purpose?

"I'm a man of the Night's Watch, Ser Alliser. I've done many awful things to honor my vows."

"You have. I'm not saying otherwise." The man replied, backing down slightly. Jon couldn't believe that Alliser Thorne was retreating so easily. "Despite our differences, we are brothers. We may not always like our brothers but we must fight alongside one another. You know that just as well as I do."

"Be honest here Jon. This is no ploy." Aemon rasped weakly. "We have talked here once. Before inviting you."

"Just spit it out." Cotter grumbled. "It's important that we know."

Jon was silent for a moment before nodding. Sam put a supportive man on his shoulders - so he spoke.

"It's an offer I've considered." He admitted, shame permeating in his voice. "It's what I've wanted my entire life. To be a Stark. But what kind of man would I be if I forsake my vows for personal gain? I kneeled before the Heart Tree and took the same vows you all did. And I will honor it to my last breath."

The other men gave passing glances at one another. And then Ser Alliser spoke up.

"Good."

Jon narrowed his eyes.

"Originally, I thought it was a piss poor idea. But I've been convinced otherwise recently. You need not know how." Alliser admitted. "And I hate your guts. I respect you, Lord Snow, but I don't like you. Never will."

"But as he said earlier, we must put aside our differences." Denys cut in. "We must put aside what we thought was right. We must do things differently...if we wish to win."

"To defeat our common foe." Samwell breathed. Something seemed to have clicked in his mind and he gave Maester Aemon a searching gaze. "It can't be...?"

"He's a sharp one." Pyke muttered. "Yes, Snow, we want you to accept Stannis Baratheon's offer."

Jon stilled.

"We should explain before he starts yabberin' about how he shouldn't do this or that because of honor or whatever the fuckin' Starks used to go on about." Pyke continued. "Fuckin' Starks. Only one I could stand was Benjen. Shame he's gone. Nonetheless, boy, understand that we're not telling you to do this. Nor are we doing this for you and yours."

"It's an order from the current acting Lord Commander." Alliser insisted - his palm facing down on the table. "We cannot defeat the Others by ourselves. Bend your knee to the King. Win his wars. Then bring the might of the Seven Kingdoms to the North. I will hold the Wall until you return, Lord Snow." The old knight smirked. "Then maybe the next time I see ya', I won't be callin' ya bastard anymore. I'm sure you'd like that, wouldn't ya?"

They all looked at him.

And Jon looked back, a fire in his eyes that none of them had ever seen before.

Aemon smiled weakly to himself. Despite not being able to see, Jon's silence was as good as any verbal answer they'd receive. He understood this. He understood more then anyone how Jon Snow was feeling at this very moment. Grateful, insulted, joyful, angered and guilty all at once.

"It is decided." Aemon finished. "We are done here. I, the Grand Maester of Castle Black witness."

"I, Denys Mallister, Commander of the Shadow Tower, witness."

"I, Cotter Pyke, witness."

"I, First Builder Yarwyck, hereby witness."

"I, Alliser Thorne, Acting Lord Commander of the Night's Watch and Castle Black, stand to witness."

Aemon continued. "By the powers vested in us - we hereby relieve you of your vows, Jon Snow. And now your watch has ended."

They all stood.

"You understand your final order, Jon Snow?" Alliser asked. Jon's hand trembled a bit before solidifying. He would not show weakness here.

They may have relieved him of his duty. But they would always be his brothers. Now and always.

"Yes, Lord Commander."

"I wish you good fortune in the wars to come."

Denys coughed slightly.

"Oh." He stopped before opening the door. "Make sure to kill that cunt Roose Bolton for me. Since you're free from your vows. Give Jason and Patrek my regards if you see them at Seagard." Denys left with a smirk. Cotter, Yarwyck and Alliser following him.

* * *

 **Top of the Wall**

The ride up the elevator was slow. His heart was beating quickly - he didn't know if it was from excitement or dread. He had just left the War Room. Samwell had wished him the best of luck before returning to his quarters. The first thing Jon had done was seek out the King. He found Davos instead lounging about - who told him the King was currently with the Asshai priestess at the top of the Wall.

Once Jon arrived, he walked two blocks down to where he knew the King would be. It was the exact same spot as the time when he asked Jon to convince Mance Rayder to bend the knee.

"Your Grace." Davos called out. Stannis was looking far into the night horizon. "Jon Snow."

He kneeled before Stannis just like before. The King motioned for him to stand. But he did not. This elicited a small smile from the King. The smallest of smiles from a man that cringed from dusk till dawn.

"Is this your answer then?"

"Your Grace." Jon didn't have any speech planned out. "I only ask that once the war in the South is won, we must return to fight the true war in the North."

Stannis merely gave him a chastising look.

"When I am King, the realm shall be protected from all matter of threats." He promised. And unlike many, Stannis Baratheon was a man of his word. Cut from the same cloth as Eddard Stark, his own father.

"Then my sword is yours, your Grace." Jon vowed. Another vow. Would new meaning fill his life with this one? Or more despair?

Jon thought, amused. _"What a question. The answer is obvious. Only despair."_

"You kneel before me now as Jon Snow." Stannis nodded to Davos who drew the scabbard off of his sword, Lightbringer, for the King.

"I, Stannis Baratheon the First of His Name, rightful King of the Andals, the Rhoynar and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms, and the Protector of the Realm - hereby strips you of your base-born name. You are now reborn here, today, and shall now rise again! Jon Stark, Lord of Winterfell and Warden of the North."

Jon did everything he could to bottle the overwhelming feelings that was surging from within. "Stand. Jon Stark."

And so he did.


	2. Chapter 2

A/N - Asha Greyjoy will be featured in this chapter. But since this story is in the Game of Thrones show category, I believe that I will refer to her as Yara. For the show only readers, Yara Greyjoy is Theon's sister. In the book, her real name is Asha. They changed it so folks wouldn't get Osha (Rickon's wildling chaperone) and Asha confused. Reasonable enough. Anyway, let's get the show on the road.

* * *

 **Chapter II**

 **"The Motte"**

 **Deepwood Motte - Midnight**

 _Yara_

Yara Greyjoy sat quietly at the main table of Deepwood Motte's primary hall. Her men seemed to sense her foul mood - she had been their Commander for years now - so they knew her quite well. Not that they minded her ruining the relatively good mood of the castle - she was their leader by choice. Yara had been battle proven since childhood - having killed men twice her age since she could fight. She loosed a bow unlike any man in the world, or woman for that matter. They once said that the Greyjoys had the best archers in the Seven Kingdoms.

She was far better then any Greyjoy as far as she knew. Save perhaps her uncle Euron and Victarion. Legend had it Euron Greyjoy, the Crow's Eye, could snipe the wing off a fly. A ridiculous exaggeration of course - but the statement did it's job in instilling wonder. Theon had also been quite good with a bow in his youth. Though, she didn't know how that turned out for him.

Theon.

As always, he was the reason for her foul mood. She had gone so far for him. She would have done anything to get him back from the clutches of that cunt, Ramsay Snow. He had defiled her brother - made him a eunuch. She should have assassinated him in his sleep.

 _"No."_ Yara told herself. The Theon she knew was gone - now made into some creature by Ramsay. _"...Tsk."_

"Commander!" A messenger caught her attention. "Dire news!"

"What is it?" She asked, straightening up. "You look blue."

"Cavalry! Hundreds of them! Riding fast from the east! Th-they're just outside our doors"

Her gloved hands slammed down on the table as she stood abruptly. "What?!"

The other Ironmen also exclaimed at the bold proclamation - most with disbelief. Many of them began racing towards their assigned guard posts instantly on the defense. The Motte was centered at the top of a large hill giving it ideal position to fight an enemy that would be forced to approach from low ground. At first, the castle had weak defenses, but Yara had her men enforce the walls and add large towers and perimeters to ensure that they could keep the castle long term.

And in moments, those advantages seemed to evaporate.

 _"How did a thousand soldiers manage to sneak up on us?"_

Yara kicked down the doors to the barracks and grabbed twin axes and a bow. By the time she arrived to the open field, she could see at a distance that many of her comrades had already fallen. It was a full on heavy cavalry rush - the majority of her forces had been impaled by lance or decapitated. She ducked one of the lances and managed to grab it from the rider, forcing him off the horse. Yara drew a dagger from her waist and slit his throat.

"Ironborn! To me!" Whatever was left of her men rallied around the front of the Hall entrance. "Pyke! The Iron Islands!"

"Pyke!"

And they fought. Yara managed to pick off quite a few riders from a distance with her bow - instructing other archers to do so from high ground in an attempt to break the enemy formation. She didn't know how long the fight had lasted but Yara knew when it had begun to end. The sound of battle began to dwindle slowly. Steadily.

Her men fought valiantly but the momentum never garnered to their side. The speed of the enemy rush surprised her greatly.

Over the course of the battle, pairs of riders rode parallel to one another, each holding one end of a large chain with spikes along the line. They rode fast - and wide, catching dozens of her men all in one sweeping attack that mowed them down like cattle. Few tried to duck or jump it but most failed - were caught and pulled around like cargo.

"Shit." She cursed.

"Commander!" One of her men pointed to the exits. Dread filled her. Shield infantrymen. They were trapped. They had lost Deepwood Motte. But she would die before surrendering so easily. Yara held up her bow in search of a target.

* * *

 _Jon_

"Lord Stark?"

Jon dismounted his horse, fully aware that the battle was coming to a close. "An Ironmen told me that the hostages are being held here. Luckily, they left when we began our attack."

"I had heard previously that Lord Glover's wife and children were taken to the Iron Islands. Strange. But how lucky." Ser Corliss Penny said. Beside him a broad man dismounted and quickly caught up to Jon. Robett Glover, whom joined Jon's cause as soon as he was told they were marching on Deepwood Motte.

"Let's not question the fortune from the Gods." Robett said solemnly. Grief, hope and anger all mixed in his tone. "I am more then familiar with this building. They must be in one of the wider cells below."

Naturally, not all of the Ironmen had evacuated the building. Upon reaching one of the lower floors, Jon could hear the screeches of young children and women from below. Three ironmen also stood guard there. They saw Jon approaching. "Fuck. The cunts have made it here."

Jon drew Longclaw while Robett engaged one of ironmen to his left. He held Longclaw still to the side and dodged the incoming axe swipes from the enemy. After a quick dodge, he lodged his sword right into the opponent's stomach, and kicked back the third man, slamming him to the ground. Robett who had finished off the other ironborn moved over and slit his throat.

"My Lord!" Sybelle Glover exlaimed with relief - her children quivering from the blood shed. Robett rushed over and opened the gates to meet his wife and children.

"Stay here with your family, Lord Glover." Jon made eye contact with the older man who nodded. He then turned to the two knights pledged to Stannis Baratheon. He whispered. "They are the rightful Lords of Deepwood Motte. Keep them safe, Ser Harys. Ser Corliss."

"As you command, Lord Stark."

* * *

 **The Eyrie**

 _Sansa_

"-broke the Wildling army to the North. Has pardoned twenty-thousand wildlings. Legitimized Ned Stark's bastard. Currently, our scouts estimate that he is thirty-thousand strong, Lord Arryn. Two hundred knights."

As usual, Lord Robin Arryn was on the edge of tears, bored out of his mind. He seemed to find more interesting matters in the trees or elsewhere. It was quite notable that he was just barely awake - sleep not far from his boy's mind. Because in Sansa's opinion, the boy was just that, a simple boy. Nothing like the man they had said Jon Arryn was like. Sansa often heard Lord Yohn Royce grunt about the Arryn heir and how incompetent the boy was turning out to be.

He was not wrong.

Another matter occupied her mind. Jon Snow. No. I guess now he was called Jon Stark. She almost smiled at the mention of her half-brother. Sure, they hadn't been close when they were children, but that did not mean her feelings hadn't changed over time. Perhaps as children, she had kept a respectful distance from him because of her mother's influence. Sansa regretted that now.

She should have loved him like she loved father. Like she loved mother, Bran, Rickon, Arya...and Robb. Gods, she missed them. The Starks of Winterfell had been broken and scattered during the War of Five Kings. Robb Stark betrayed at the Twins by the Boltons and the Freys.

"Lady Sansa, a word, if I may?" Petyr Baelish whispered from beside her. She nodded and walked to the local weirwood of the Eyrie. This was a scenery she had truly missed while living in the cyst nest that was King's Landing. They said that Starks didn't do well in the south. She was more then inclined to agree.

"Lord Baelish?"

"In regards to your half-brother." He started. "We've received word that Stannis's army has retaken Deepwood Motte. Jon Stark led the attack personally. They have regained House Glover's allegiance. I've a mind to believe that they are rallying more Northerners under their wing - specifically, Northerners who were betrayed at the Twins. It's more then likely that House Mormont will jump at any opportunity to avenge the Red Wedding."

She took at the information in silence.

"It seems the fate of the North will hang on the balance." Sansa mused. "What word of the Last Hearth and Karhold?"

Honestly, she didn't expect much from the Karstarks. They had abandoned House Stark during the War of Five Kings. They were traitors. Oathbreakers.

They would pay. In time.

"Bolton's men." Baelish replied quickly. He then narrowed his eyes as a small smirk graced the younger girl's lips. His heart flipped slightly. She looked just like her mother in a way. "What are you thinking?"

"The North Remembers." She breathed out cold air. "Lord Robin Arryn is still in need of a betrothed, is he not?"

"He is quite young." Littlefinger pointed out. "But yes, he is still unattached. He can still be promised, nonetheless."

Sansa went deep in thought for a moment. Her eyes were closed and if Petyr didn't know any better, he would have assumed that she was simply praying. The young woman held her hands together and her head was facing the sky.

"Roslin Frey seems to be available now that Edmure Tully is imprisoned. Perhaps a union between the Riverlands and the Vale will provide many great opportunities in the future."

Petry Baelish made a humming sound, the thought crossing his mind.

"I'll have a word with the Maester. Perhaps old Walder has already sent a raven that we ignored previously."

* * *

 _Jon_

Jon met with his King in the main Hall of Deepwood Motte. "Your Grace." He inclined his head.

"Lord Stark." Stannis nodded. "It seems your plan was successful."

"Aye." Jon scratched his chin. "The Ironmen wouldn't know of the secret trails in the Wolfswood. My brother and I would explore when we were boys. It was easy to catch them off-guard. We rode hard and fast - took them by surprise in the middle of the night while they were in their cups. They must have lost ten times our numbers."

"I'll have somebody do the body count." Stannis said. "Their leader? The Lady Greyjoy."

"In the cells." Jon replied. "Balon will be incapable of moving against us now. The Ironmen will scurry back to the Iron Islands."

"Hm." The King pondered for a moment. "For now, she will be a prisoner, Lord Stark. I have terms to offer her. I leave that to you."

"Of course."

"Now that we hold Deepwood Motte, Winterfell will be next. Will we be able to pull off this same tactic in the next battle?"

Jon shook his head. "We cannot underestimate the Boltons. Lest we carelessly fall into a trap. I've heard Roose Bolton is every bit as cunning a General Tywin Lannister was." The younger man seemed to pause for a second. "There is something I must think on. An idea. But first I must spend some time recalling old conversations I had with my late brother."

 _"He means the Young Wolf."_ Stannis Baratheon realized. "Very well. Go on. We move as soon as I consolidate our strength here. And as soon as I hear from Ser Davos."

The Onion Knight had been sent to White Harbor for another task. Jon had a fairly good idea of what his plan was - but Jon digressed. Ser Davos Seaworth was one of the most competent men he'd ever met and Jon had known many. White Harbor shouldn't be on his mind at the moment. All he could do now was wait for the man's success and devise a plan to take back his home.

"Of course. By your leave, Your Grace."

The King waved him off. Jon turned around - he had a few matters to attend to.

* * *

 **(Cells)**

Yara looked up. It was her captor. A man called Jon Stark. He wore his valyrian steel sword on his hip, black northern leather armor and cloaked in black fur. Beside him was the white direwolf that had slain as many of her men as he had. At least, that was what her men had told her in their cells.

"Well, well..." She roused herself. "Jon Stark. Lord of...Winterfell, was it? You're far from your keep."

Jon did not bite at her insult. "Princess Yara Greyjoy." He acknowledged with indifference.

"What do you want?" She asked sardonically. "Come to have your way with me? I see the way you look at me, little wolf."

Jon merely stared at her blankly. That was certainly not his intention - but he could not blame her for thinking so. From the stories he had heard from Theon, it was not unusual for ironmen to take salt-wives or...whatever ridiculous traditions they had.

"No." He answered honestly. "I've come with an offer, actually."

"An offer? What could I possibly give you?"

"The Iron Islands. Pyke. And eventually, the Iron Fleet." Jon stated, staring at her intently. "Swear your loyalty to our cause. Help us destroy House Bolton. And the Greyjoy name lives on."

"Idiot. My father would never surrender so much. Not for me!"

"Aye. Perhaps, but these terms are not for your father." She went silent at that statement. "I offer these terms to you, Princess."

"Don't call me that." She snapped. "I am Commander of the Black Wind and a quarter of the Iron Fleet. I've killed more men then you ever will." She demanded a little respect for her military position. "And why would I accept? I see no benefit for me and mine!"

"You will. Right now, how many lands do the Greyjoys have?"

"We control several villages along the western coast of the North. The Iron Islands-"

"And that's it. For now at least. Who knows how long you will hold those...villages." He cut her off. "We'll give you more after the war is won. And yes, yes, I understand that you and your people 'charge the iron price' or whatever you call it. That's nonsense. You honestly believe that foolish mentality will win you prosperity for your people?" He looked all around to the other prisoners. They were glaring at him. He didn't care.

"These terms are from the King himself." Jon added with steel in his voice. Yara could only grit her teeth. "Kneel before King Stannis Baratheon. Swear fealty to him and his line. Help us destroy House Bolton. And we'll give you the West. Casterly Rock, Lannisport, Faircastle, Ashemark, and the Crag!"

"The Lannisters hold the West!" She scoffed. "You think they'll give it up so easily?"

"Trust me." And suddenly, the tone of his voice sent a chill down her spine. Like a beast that had long been at rest had finally awoken. "There will be no Lannisters in Westeros left once this War has ended."

"..." Yara had no answer. Even her men were subdued. "...Leave."

Jon nodded and inclined his head before turning away. He could see that he had gotten to her. His job was done.

Yara closed her eyes. She began massaging her head - quelling the coming headache.

* * *

END


End file.
